The Harvester

“My, this is a mess, eh?” An elderly man, with a robust frame despite his age, popped his neck with a groan as he stood amid the dispersing remnants of mana that had formed him. His gray hair and beard gave him a special kind of roguish image as he grinned widely through them.

 

He wore a long black coat that fluttered from the wind of the canyon peaks. It almost seemed like a casual piece of attire but appeared to be made of something stronger than regular cloth, devoid of crinkles or timeworn signs.

 

Aside from that, the old man had a sheathed katana attached to his belt, as well as the holster of a certain revolver, which Rakna knew the existence of, hidden under the coat.

 

“Oh, wait, this is killing intent, right?” The man suddenly uttered to himself and the ‘threat’ he had been exuding abruptly vanished as if it had never been there, releasing everyone from its hold. 

 

“This is kind of weird. I’m… a vessel?” He mumbled to himself and snickered. “You’ll have to give me a moment, kid. I was summoned as the person you knew, not the one you know of today. My soul is catching up.”

 

Rakna raised an eyebrow. “Is that supposed to be a boast, old man?” He huffed. “If you’re catching up, what the hell is that, huh?” The therian said while pointing at the sky that was slowly getting invaded by dark clouds, barely restraining the black and red lightning within them.

 

Arimane smirked. “I catch up fast. I already remember the first comment I made when I tried magic for the first time,” he said and slowly put his hand around his sword’s hilt. “It’s easy,” he uttered and thunder roared, a bolt of Aeter striking a large cliff in the distance and demolishing it.

 

“…”

 

“All right, Karma, time to play,” the Kind Demon declared and slowly drew his weapon. The shrill sound of metal echoed loudly as if the sword was fighting the world itself to come out. When the silver blade made of sapphire left its scabbard, it immediately transformed into something strong enough to send Rakna’s Crystal Sight into overdrive.

 

The blade gained a crimson edge and black wave patterns as it lengthened slightly. Arimane gave it an amused glance. “Well, that’s embarrassing. My sword’s catching up faster than I am,” he said with a light laugh.

 

Silently, Rakna lifted Sonata and took a proper stance. Without even uttering a sound, he promptly activated Ghost of Rupture, and his Internal Art thrummed to life inside his Ki Pathways, not even a millisecond of delay in between.

 

Arimane smiled. “Is that my Azure Sonata? No… Rhapsodic Sonata, is it? Nice name,” he said as his eyes manifested a hexagram for a split second. “System windows; nifty stuff.” 

 

Rakna shook his head and sighed. “And people say I’m overpowered,” he jested as the sky rumbled above his head. Quietly, a black-colored aura surged around him, purple strings of light emerging along with it.

 

“No more chit-chat? Looks like you really want this fight,” the old man said calmly. With one spark of lightning, his aura descended as well, turning rocks into dust from the sheer pressure. “Bring it on, kid.”

 

Nothing more was needed as Rakna’s figure burst into a flare of star energy. He appeared directly in front of Arimane, seemingly forgoing the very notion of blind spots with this opponent. Sonata was swung in a wide but swift arc, the weapon leaving a blurry trail not dissimilar to the one that marred his limbs due to Ghost of Rupture.

 

It was an attack that didn’t bother to build up momentum as if born with it. Yet, the Demon, in all but flesh, raised his sword and deflected the Guandao as if he had known about its trajectory in advance.

 

The polearm’s momentum persisted to the right but then disappeared altogether. Instead, a ripple in the air briefly emerged from the edge of Sonata and the weapon was immediately swinging back in the opposite direction at equal speed and strength.

 

Despite himself, Arimane let out a small exclamation of surprise as he tilted his head backward in once again complete serenity, dodging the blade. 

 

Unlike Rakna’s movements, which were quite compelling to the eye, and slowed down only a split second in between every attack, the Kind Demon’s movements were slow. Everything he did, from raising his sword to moving his feet, was painfully slow. Despite that, he was untouchable. 

 

As if his solution to speed was its opposite, Arimane wielded an incongruity; he was being faster through slowness. 

 

“Nice technique,” he remarked and clashed against Sonata again. Instead of deflecting, he parried it this time and felt a ‘ripple’ imposing itself and putting more pressure on his wrist.

 

“I knew you’d like it,” Rakna replied with a sarcastic undertone, and a Ripple of Rupture spread out from under his pivoting foot, shattering the ground they stood on. At the same time, it created a completely new level of Ki Flow that the therian released all at once through his blade.

 

“[Blade of Rupture,]” he whispered and with the noise of the wind crying through the cavities of the canyons, a distortion in the air slashed at Arimane and nearly split the mountaintop.

 

The old man was heard cackling as he leaped in the air through the cloud of dust, watching as the ground they stood on just before crumbled into pieces. Rakna ‘flared’ after him without wasting a second and swung again, at least five times in succession, somehow breaking rules of physics to make them simultaneous.

 

All of it was either deflected or parried by Karma, and the exact same number of trenches opened up loudly on the land below them; nothing more than collateral damage from simple swings. There was no doubt that during his fight with Roias, Rakna’s Sin of Pride had enhanced his Internal Art mastery to untold heights.

 

“Hm, why does this feel like you’re using me as a training dummy?” Arimane muttered amusingly as he caught a punch with his palm, black lightning exploding from it in order to fight back against the Fist of Rupture that confronted the very dimensions it impacted. “In need of practice? I guess I could play teacher like old times,” he chuckled.

 

“[Scintillan Feram,]” the old demon intoned and he transformed into a wild bolt of lightning. In the blink of an eye, he appeared above his nephew and threw a kick that once again appeared slow but infuriatingly unavoidable.

 

Something that Rakna became the inopportune proof of as even with Star Flare invoked, he was hit right through it, the star energy being pushed away by nothing more than a kick. The therian nonetheless had the necessary speed to raise Sonata’s shaft in defense but was hurled by the force behind it, nearly breaking the sound barrier because of it and crashing at the bottom of a ravine.

 

“First lesson,” Arimane spoke, shouldering his sword. “You use your martial art quite well when it comes to attacking. But now you need to repurpose it for defense. You don’t use it enough to dodge or repel incoming damage although it has a high potential for it. Work on that.”

 

* * *

 

“This is… slightly vexing,” Zialtra commented with a serious expression. Burying her doubts as to who this elderly man was, she focused on something else. “People call me a Martial Saint but from what I’ve seen, the little majesty’s Internal Art is much superior to mine. Despite his inexperience with it, based on pure martial prowess, he could sweep the floor with me.”

 

A few people at the table glanced at her.

 

“And worst of all…” She frowned. “That old guy… he’s fighting on an even higher level. I can’t see through his technique in the slightest and it doesn’t make sense,” she groaned and stared at the group she knew could answer her question, “Who is that? And… who is Rakna Xiorra?”

 

Nyx briefly met her eyes and huffed. “That man is beyond my comprehension, much less yours.”

 

The Hunting Queen’s eye twitched in annoyance but Hans placated her, “Do not bother. You will never stand equal to him.” The boy threw a pointed look at Arimane. “Most of us will not. There is nothing shameful or confusing in not being able to see through his abilities.” 

 

“As for who he is…” Hans snickered. “Take a better look at the lightning he wields. Furthermore, I am sure you will understand if I tell you that…” He paused and glanced at the Night Goddess who was restless. “She is not tense due to fear of the man harming Xiorra… she is apprehensive of him fully ascending.”

 

“Ascending? What is that?” Allan raised his voice skeptically and looked at Nyx. “Is that why you were so scared earlier? The old master wouldn’t harm us or kill Rak…”

 

Nyx sighed and rubbed her temples. “You don’t understand... This is not about what he does, but his simple presence. When I said the System can’t contain him, I meant it cannot handle his power. The longer he stays manifested through that vessel, the closer he will get to his true self. Soon, he will turn into a specter and after that, his existence will ‘Ascend’ as an automatic self-preservation measure to try and find a connection back to the original.”

 

“Candidly put, this Plateau will be obliterated without a trace and us along with it,” Astraea stated straightforwardly and everyone shivered at her sudden assertion. She had said it so plainly that it blindsided them for a second.

 

“P-Please excuse me, I must head to the Operative Room of the Arena at once,” Michael quickly said and practically ran off with a hurried gait.

 

Shaking her head, Nyx sighed as he left. “It’s too late to stop it…”

 

“What kind of monster has our newbie unleashed upon us?” Caer joked and smiled a bit too calmly as he watched Rakna release a fiery and domineering aura from within the depths of the crevasse he had been kicked into. 

 

‘That lightning… it’s Nox Aeterna, isn’t it?’ He thought solemnly and glanced at his wife with whom he shared a significant look. ‘The others will have a field day when they learn about this...’

 

“Rakna is invoking his magic,” Ceresta made the casual observation and redirected the attention of the group back to the matter at hand.

 

* * *

 

“[Altar of Flames – Cosmos,]” the therian’s voice echoed and the Neverwinter flames and crystals encompassed the canyon, glinting like a starry sky, inverted from black to pure crimson.

 

“Hmm? A Domain Spell, right?” Arimane commented as Rakna literally stood on the sea of blazing star energy. Dark red spires of crystal slowly grew from within the spell and towered up, arranged in a specific and deliberate pattern, with a miniature-sized Neverwinter Star at the top of each.

 

Rakna stood in the center like the plinth of an altar; hence the name. It was a spell he had yet to use, but as the old man had said, the Altar of Flames was a Domain Spell that imposed the caster’s element in a defined area. Their uses differed but this one allowed for one thing; spell boost.

 

Currently, he had redistributed most of his attribute points to Intelligence. As of right now, he had over 600 Points assigned to it. And that was without using his werewolf form. 

 

Despite the fact that his Shape Shift was considered by the System as a ‘First-Priority Skill’, which meant that whatever increase in attributes it gave would come first before any other multiplicator was applied, the Sage Beast Trait was interestingly enough non-consequential.

 

Increasing all his Attributes by 62% and then redistributing them was mathematically the same as pouring every point into one Attribute and then raising that by 62%. 

 

Regardless, the only reason he was focusing this much on his Intelligence was to cast a spell he’d never had enough control or raw power to cast without his Manifestation. And of course, since he knew Arimane would be far too curious to stop the lengthy process, it allowed him to try in the first place.

 

The therian pointed his palm at the sky and the spires of the Altar began to siphon the flames from below and feed it to the miniature stars. “[Altar of Flames – Chaos,]” Rakna chanted again and exactly nine stars shot up from the altar after having absorbed the entirety of the star energy. They joined up in the sky to form only one.

 

“[Embers of Ardor Abide the Star’s Vehemence,]” Rakna sang the first verse of a Cōl Lāli that only belonged to the Neverwinter, and the star he had summoned began to collapse inward, audible sounds of crystal shattering, and lines converging toward the core.

 

Arimane’s eyes widened when he saw the star’s color turn brighter; almost white.

 

* * *

 

“Is this child crazy?!” Enya Fendyrlen yelled as she stood up from her seat. “What kind of madness do you need to be afflicted with to cast such a spell?!” She couldn’t believe her eyes. “Is he trying to kill himself?! He entered the spatial layer with his real body, the fool!”

 

“Master?” Vera spoke up cautiously, addressing her Guild Leader in the way that every one of her fellow witches did. Enya was a magic master to all of them; their teacher. She, who was known as the Monarch of Sorcery, and even the Sorceress Queen, was currently baffled.

 

“It’s Star Magic,” her delicate features twisted into a frown. “What do you think a star turning white implies, Vera?” She sighed aggravatedly. “No, in the first place, he did not have this much magical power just a few minutes ago… First, he manifests THE ‘Demon’ parading as an elderly man, and now this?”

 

“Demon…? Wait, that’s…?!” Bianka realized who had just been ‘recreated’ by the Arena Game.

 

“Yes,” Enya nodded grimly. “There is no doubt; that is the original Nox Aeterna.”

 

“And that white star…” Polia muttered with a somewhat nervous expression while her guildmates were more busy processing the idea they were looking at one of the strongest beings currently known to all Existence. “Is it what I think it is?” She asked uneasily.

 

“Again, yes. Hopefully, the Arena will hold...” The Sorceress Queen groused and was about to sit down when she saw Eternal Night do something absolutely ludicrous. Her jaw dropped, and for the first time in centuries, she felt completely outclassed as a mage.

 

* * *

 

“Kid… there are limits to recklessness,” Arimane snorted.

 

“You were the one who taught me there is no such thing,” Rakna retorted, completely unaffected by the fact his star was turning into a wholly white sphere of shrilling crystal and energy; gravity going out of control in its direct surroundings and getting hot beyond measure.

 

“Haha, I guess I did,” the old man chuckled and his eyes glowed. The lightning suppressed in the clouds finally began to move. “Well, let me repay that favor,” he declared and snapped his fingers, a pit promptly appearing in the black clouds right above him. He extended his hand upward and a bolt of Aeter shot out from his palm, disappearing inside the dark gulf in the sky.

 

“[Disscindam Mundum Seorsum] (I Shall Tear the World Apart).”

“[Sub Frigora Atque Inmortali Nocte] (Under the Cold and Immortal Night).”

“[Fulmina Aeterna Leges Naturae Ferit] (The Eternal Lightning Strikes the Laws of Nature.)”

 

Thunder roared and something started descending from within the clouds. Surrounded by halos of red energy; it was a giant and perfectly cubic mass of black lightning quivering with power. The surfaces of the cube looked impossibly polished and it floated to Arimane who held one finger up to one of its corners.

 

The cube began to spin sluggishly as it hovered diagonally; just a few centimeters of spacing with the finger lifting it. The size of the construct was equal to the star that had visibly reached its final stage of density and shone increasingly brighter. 

 

It was a direct opposition of colors, shapes, and sizes.

 

“…old man, did you just create an antithesis spell of my star on the spot?” Even Rakna deadpanned at the ridiculousness of such a thing. 

 

What Arimane had just done went further than just making a cube with lightning and calling it a day. He had crafted a magic theory purposefully for the sake of countering ‘stars’ with ‘night’ and the idea of ‘nature’ with ‘geometry’.

 

“What can I say?” The old man smirked as flicked his finger forward. The cube began to accelerate its rotation as it followed his motion and soon enough, it was moving so fast that it looped back to being a sphere. “I’m just that awesome,” he uttered as his spell began to approach the star.

 

“…” Rakna didn’t say anything and they both silently stared at their respective crafts heading for a collision. When they were but a few seconds from touching, the therian unfurled his wings and wrapped them around himself. 

 

‘[Grand Reinforcement, Rift Shuttle, Triad Obsidian,]’ he triggered his skills internally.

 

He converted his entire body into star energy, coated himself in dimensions, and summoned the power of the Obsidian Star into his aura. The collapsing star and the lightning cube had collectively bent space and time beyond what could be braved with teleportation or dimensional hopping.

 

Rakna could only face the explosion head-on. His own spell would partially ignore him and as long as he maintained enough mana to feed his Grand Reinforcement, he would be able to reform his body from most states.

 

Arimane laughed and a bolt of Aeter struck him from the sky, enveloping him in the silhouette of an ebony dragon. “[Votum Mortalitatis] (Vow of Mortality),” he whispered and every sound and color were suddenly stripped from the world.

 

“[Neverwinter… Supernova,]” Rakna’s voice sounded soon after and everything was swallowed by a wave of pure extinction, closer to a light of judgment than an explosion.